Chapter Text
TJ could about spit. He was stuck doing this community service for another three hours. Three lousy hours until he was free of the punishment. He had failed to fight the charges, they’d found the coke in his possession. Ok, in his car. He wasn’t even sure it was his. If it was, it had been there for at least two years. Although he’d been clean for three years, the stuff could have been there from one desperate night. A night where TJ had nearly given in and done coke with the cute guy who he’d known was a mistake even before they were together, steaming up the back seat of his car. That was the only time he had drugs in this car, and TJ stopped before they got to the drugs. The sex had turned out to be enough of a distraction.
TJ had been driving from meeting a band to potentially book for monthly gigs when he’d gotten a phone call from Dougie. “TJ!” Douglas had sounded elated. “Guess what we just found out!”
“Dougie! What?” TJ asked, smiling as he drove down the country road. He took a sip of his coffee waiting for Douglas to respond.
“You’re going to be an uncle! Annie’s expecting twins! Can you believe it?!”
TJ jumped with excitement, the coffee in his hand already forgotten, until a large splash of it landed in his lap. “Shit! Dammit! Dougie I gotta let you go.” TJ cried out, trying to keep the heat from ruining crucial parts of his anatomy. In doing so, he swerved the car and overcorrected and within moments, he heard the sharp roar of a police siren.
He’d been stopped for driving erratically, the small-town Virginia cop must have seen dollar signs on TJ’s car, and then the cop saw TJ’s face and saw his fifteen minutes of fame and glory. “Out of the car Mister Hammond.”
The initial charge was a DUI, which TJ got out of without any erasure from his meddling political family. He was clean, tested clean, passed all of the rigorous tests, but the drug dog they’d called in (because TJ Hammond was a goldmine) found the baggie wedged between cushions in the back of the car and so TJ was popped for possession.
That’s why TJ was on hour twenty nine of his community service. TJ looked around the dark overpass at the huddled homeless people, following his supervisor, a small, lithe strawberry blonde named Natalie. She looked familiar, he’d thought so for the entirety of his CS. “TJ, take these over to that side, there’s a guy and a dog over there. Don’t worry, I’ll cover you.” she said with a smirk when he looked at her like she was speaking Russian. Although, even TJ had a passing knowledge of Russian, “Dog probably won’t bite but the man might.”
“Then you go.” TJ was brave enough, he didn’t know why, but the elfin beauty with the full pink lips and narrowed-eyed smile frightened him.
“It’s not my community service.”
“Fine.” TJ hefted the backpack filled with a blanket, food, sweatpants, a clean t-shirt and gloves in it, pulled a twenty from his own pocket and stuffed it into the front pocket. “Do you have anything for their pets?”
She gave him a look of shock, as though nobody ever thought about the animals, and why wouldn’t they? The poor creatures were as cold and hungry as their two-legged companions were.
“I have some stuff I’d picked up for my neighbor’s dog in my trunk. Go get it and I’ll replace it later.” She said with a kinder tone than he’d heard from her, ever, in the previous 29 hours of his thirty-two hour sentence. “Maybe we should consider it.”
“Maybe so.” TJ smirked, taking her key and running the half-block to her car where it sat under a streetlamp.
He found the dog supplies, some dry and some pouches of moist food, a couple of dog-toys and two bags of treats. There were also two dog-sweaters, which he’d nearly tossed into the trunk, before looking at their size and mentally sizing up the dog across the road. He stuffed them back into the reusable shopping bag. He tugged two bottles of water from the trunk, and tossed them on top of the sweaters before pulling the bag from the trunk, slamming it as he turned to cross the road.
TJ’s steps slowed on the return. He wasn’t afraid of dogs, not even afraid of these homeless people, not anymore. Two-thirds of his community service had been completed on the streets. The remaining third was accomplished by assembling the backpacks. He’d brought a case of them with him to his second meeting and Natalie had looked down her pert nose at him and said “you can’t buy your way out of Community Service”, to which he’d replied, “you want to give these people something to help? You really want to turn our nose up at a donation? I know I’m in this for another 30 hours. Your stupid speech last time got under my skin, ok?”
So the bags they’d been about to fill became backpacks and TJ hefted the one he was carrying now and approached the man. “Excuse me, sir. I have some things.”
“I don’t need any charity, go ahead and give it to someone with a family.” The voice that came from underneath the hair and the dark hat was velvety smooth. TJ watched the man shift uncomfortably, favoring his left side.
“No, but your dog doesn’t care about pride, maybe he, or she? Wouldn’t mind a toy and a treat?” TJ didn’t always have the right words, but he wasn’t an idiot. He was his father’s son after all.
“Яночка, she will eat anything.” The velvety voice softened to a silken melted chocolate sound. Love softened any voice, TJ knew.
“May I pet her? That’s lovely, it’s Russian, right?”
The man shifted again, tugging his hat down nervously with his right hand.
“Listen, are you ok? Can I help you?” TJ knelt in front of the dog, holding a hand out for her to sniff, instead of getting in the man’s space.
“I’m fine.” Velvet voice said – although it was more a whiskey voice now.
TJ sent a text to Natalie while ignoring the topic while facing of the man on the ground. The text simply said: “I need help. Now.” To the dog, he crooned, “Hello Яночка. May I give her one of the treats? Or has she had dinner? There’s some dog-food and water in here.”
TJ knew his voice had gone soft, hopefully the concern for the obviously suffering homeless man would be translated as concern solely for the dog. It was dark, he couldn’t see the man’s face for the darkness and for the added shadows of hair and hat. Яночка, on the other hand, was white with a little patch of color, probably tan from what TJ could make out in the gray darkness under the overpass.
The man nodded, “she could use a meal,” he said softly. Both men were startled by the stealthy appearance of TJ’s tiny boss. The hairs stood up on the back of TJ’s neck. The man on the ground rolled onto his right side, apparently no longer able to sit upright.
TJ, closest to the man, reached for him, when the dog sniffed him and then her owner, he knew there weren’t going to be any repercussions. TJ took his jacket off and rolled it up, quickly placing it under the man’s head, and took the hat that fell away and set it on top of the new backpack he hadn’t officially given yet. The man looked up at him with frightened eyes and TJ reached to brush his hair from his face, “you’ll be ok. Don’t worry.”
“I can’t leave her.” He said with what could be the last of his strength.
“Don’t worry. I won’t make you.”
“TJ.” Natalie scolded, kneeling on the man’s other side. She gasped when she saw his face. “звездочка моя” she reached out, but hesitated before touching the man.
“Наталия”
TJ was stunned, obviously the man and Natalie, Nataliya, knew one another, why else would the scary supervisor of the small-town community service call this homeless man “My Star”? Maybe she’d been looking for this man all the while.
“TJ,” Natalie’s tone was hushed, “I need you to keep an eye on his dog, don’t say one word about anything you’ve seen here tonight. I can trust you right?”
TJ had a variety of sarcastic comments just dancing in his head waiting to escape, not the least of which was ‘could he buy his three, no, two and a half, hours back?’ He stifled the thoughts as the man grasped TJ’s wrist, the grip wasn’t as weak as someone in his position should be, it wasn’t overly strong either, “Яночка”
“I’ll take care of Яночка.” TJ promised. He looked into the man’s eyes again, softening more, wondering what else he could do. “What’s wrong with him?”
TJ turned to look at Natalie and she was a few feet away talking rapidly on her phone. TJ opened the man’s dirty, thick coat and saw a bloodied lightly colored plaid shirt. He opened the shirt to another layer, a white or light gray thermal Henley, also covered in blood.
TJ quickly yanked sweat pants from the backpack, and pulled a bottle of water out of the bag with the dog supplies. TJ carefully lifted the man’s shirt. “What happened? Who did this?”
“головорезы”
“Somehow I think “thugs” is more ominous than it should sound.” TJ muttered, trying to clean the area. He grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight, “Say, judging by the grip you had on my wrist, do you think you're strong enough to hold this?”
The man took the phone and wobbled the light a little but it worked enough to allow TJ to see what and where to clean.
“Are you cold? There’s a blanket in here. What am I looking at, gunshot or knife?” TJ was rambling in his nervousness. He’d barely paid attention to those first aid classes that he was required to attend for whatever photo op that had been. He tugged the emergency blanket out of the bag and hurriedly opened the pouch and spread it over the man’s legs and as much of his exposed torso as he could, glancing at Natalie who was standing surprisingly still through her hushed, agitated phone call.
“I know you speak English as well as I do, and my Russian is rudimentary at best. It’s dark and there’s a lot to clean around so would you please, knife or bullet?”
“Both?” The man smirked, rolling his head to look after his dog. “иди сюда” he said and the dog curled up at his head, allowing him to lie across her back.
“She’s amazing. Beautiful dog.” TJ said as he continued to clean the area and attempted to avoid disturbing the actual wounds. They were seeping but not actively bleeding, he’d rather that stay the case. He apologized when the man winced, hissing in a sharp breath.
“You’re not from around here.” The man said with a touch of pain and a bit of humor in his voice.
“Yeah? I’m guessing you’re not either. Both huh? I’ve heard it’s rough out here.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“No hospital? You could have called the cute girl over there instead of making her scour homeless villages across the state.”
“She’s a surprise.” The man said, moaning against pain caused by TJ’s attentions.
“Hmm. What are the odds.” TJ said, trying not to freak out at the pain he was causing, the blood all over, and his demons trying to rise up.
“No odds. I’m sure this was the end game.” The man said, he set the phone down and took TJ’s hand. “If you have any pull with your parents… don’t let them… don’t let her return me to them.”
“Who is them? You mean the ‘thugs’? She’s with them?” TJ’s heart lurched, “If she’s with them, I traveled with her, I don’t know how to…”
“James, I’m not with “them”. Think about it.” Natalie or was it Nataliya? Turned “He’s not with them, talk to him. If you don’t believe me. If you don’t trust me. Talk to Steve.”
TJ watched, absently holding a clean section of the fleece sweat pants against the wound, trying again to cover “James’” exposed skin with the emergency blanket. He looked around, the camp of homeless had disbursed after getting goods, and nobody seemed to be concerned about this lone man and dog. “Natalie” handed “James” the phone. TJ felt cold where “James’” hand released its grip on his.
He could hear all of the conversation, Natalie – now Natasha’s phone on video. Holy shit. “Holy shit.” TJ breathed, that was Steve Rogers. That meant she was… oh, he could see it now, what kind of mad skills this woman had to possess to alter her appearance so subtly. She was the Black Widow. “Holy shit.”
The fact that the two people there looked at TJ didn’t bother him, it wasn’t even that the dog even looked up without lifting her head. It was that Steve Rogers seemed to peer through the phone to see who was cursing that made TJ laugh.
“Buck. Listen to Natasha, go with her. We’ll keep you safe.”
Natasha took the phone and James’ hand found TJ’s wrist again, “please.”
TJ looked from James’ pleading face to Natasha’s confused one. “I think he still wants me to keep him safe. From you. From them.” To James, he said, “I’ll go with you. My mother knows Steve Rogers, she trusts him. Even she’d call him to help you. Do you trust me to go with you? I’m sure they have someone who can help you with your injuries.”
“Call your mother. Tell her where you are, where you’re going. Make sure she knows how to find you.” James said weakly.
TJ looked at Natasha, who still had a pained Steve Rogers on videophone. She nodded. “Ok, I’ll do that. I’ll keep Яночка safe while they fix you up. The dog goes with us.” TJ told Natasha.
“Steve we’ll be a couple hours, is there any way you can meet us half-way?” She said, staying within the group, presumably to foster trust in the weakened, injured homeless man who meant something very important to Steve Rogers.
“I’m going to take Яночка to the car and I’ll bring them both around and help you in, is that ok?” TJ asked James specifically, not looking at Natasha for confirmation. He figured that if he had the dog from the start, James would continue to trust that he was going to look after her.
“Ok.” James tried to shove back into a seated position, only to have TJ touch his shoulder from behind, where he was gathering the dog’s food and her rope-turned-leash.
“Wait here, you can lie down til we get back.”
“Don’t forget your jacket.” James seemed concerned.
“I won’t, meanwhile, just use it to keep off the hard ground. She’ll be safe with me. I promise. Natalie will gather your things.”
TJ rose and he and Natasha exchanged glances, before he whistled softly and the dog followed him down the street.